So now I’m enjoying a bit of a grace period.

That’s probably a bad idea. And I’m not going to go crazy. But I may do just a little bit of celebrating. In fact much celebrating has already occurred. And it’s going to be great to be able to participate on the Tour de Hard Ice cream without a lick of guilt or regret. Plus I won’t have to second-guess the foods I eat on my West Coast vacation next month.

Yesterday’s celebration the end of the “fast” really was three separate treats strung together with a bit of a bonus treat on the side for good measure. However it’s the first stop after the phlebotomist that may be the most surprising of all.

Fluffalicious
Yes. I went out for a cupcake. Yes. I said I wasn’t going to do that anymore. But I was with Little Miss Fussy, and you should have seen her light up at all the different cupcakes in the case. And if we are going to engage in this kind of behavior, it might as well be at the place that won The Cupcake Challenge.

For the record, she chose the cupcake dominated by a pink dot in its center, although it was a hard choice between that, the one that had a buttercream flower, and the one named after her favorite childhood star, Shirley Temple.

In honor of the occasion I also had a mini cannoli. I also noticed they had a tray of full-sized and miniature cannoli shells. These shells are empty, as they should be, so they can be filled to order. Even though this is the preferred practice, it’s harder to find a cannoli filled to order than you might imagine.

This cheese-filled deep-fried treat was better than the triple-fudge cupcake. Little Miss Fussy may disagree.

Quattro’s Farm Wild Turkey Egg
After doing only the minimal sampling required to write intelligently about pheasant and turkey eggs for the Chefs Consortium post earlier this week, I theorized that turkey eggs would be idea for soft boiling. The rationale is that they are slightly larger than chicken eggs, and have a higher ratio of yolk to white. Yesterday, I got to put that theory into practice.

After five minutes in boiling water, and served alongside toast soldiers made from Heidelberg 100% whole wheat bread, I had the soft-boiled wild turkey egg of my dreams. It was everything I hoped it would be. There is one last turkey egg in my possession, and if Mrs. Fussy plays her cards right, she may even get to enjoy some of it with me.

Häagen-Dazs Ice Cream
In the freezer is a “pint” of vanilla. It has really been for when Young Master Fussy does something really special. It’s good to have random rewards. But yesterday I snuck a bite. Damn, that stuff is rich and delicious.

All Over Albany’s Burger Lab at Central Steak
I’m really glad to be part of the AOA family, especially when it means I get to judge a build-your-own-slider contest. Last night there were five sliders in total. Two were made with pork belly. The official results aren’t getting posted until Monday, and I’m really looking forward to writing about it more after the story goes live.

Still, I think my favorite mini-burgers were the ones I made myself. Those two, plus the five I ate at Judges Table, left me in the mood for a brisk walk in the cool evening air. That was lovely and I followed it up with a belly soothing dose of absinthe.

Now I’m fading. But I’m feeling great. Talk to you more on Sunday when I’m bright eyed and bushy tailed.

Fruits and vegetables taste better at the peak of their season. Local producers who can carefully bring their goods to market, don’t have to pick fruits underripe so they can be survive commercial freight. Those farmers who care enough to work with nature rather than against it tend to optimize for flavor and not tons per acre.

I believe in all of this. This is why I belong to a CSA. This is why I shop at farmers markets. This is why I love restaurants like All Good Bakers.

But now I’m going to turn it on its head.

Local, seasonal and organic is a high bar. And many have adopted a shorthand. After all, organic standards have eroded and many small farmers who engage in organic practices don’t have the time or the money to become officially certified. So the “Organic” modifier often floats away. Plus seasonal is really a subset of local. If you are buying locally at a farmers market, the producers will only bring what’s in season anyway, so most don’t need to concern themselves with this either.

And local foods are great. Except when they are not.

When was the last time you checked out the Environmental Working Group’s Shopper’s Guide to Pesticides in Produce? It’s really a great resource to commit to memory. Because it breaks down the 12 fruits and vegetables that carry the heaviest pesticide load – for which you should purchase organically or biodynamically grown versions. On the flip side it has the fifteen cleanest conventionally grown items available to us.

Do you know what the worst fruit is? Apples. Pineapples are the best.

Pineapples are the best. They are sweet, juicy and brightly acidic. They can make a great refreshing soft drink or a killer classic cocktail. And thanks to the miracle of modern transport, they are available all year long from places that are much warmer and sunnier than the Capital Region of New York.

And taking a bite of that sunshine in the doldrums of winter is priceless. Which is funny, because despite the distance pineapples travel, they are remarkably reasonable. Pretty much all year long you can find one market that’s selling them for $3 a pop.

Don’t get me wrong, I love apples too.

We live in apple country, and there are amazing apples to be found here. But not all of our local apple orchards are the same. When I spoke to someone at Indian Ladder Farms, they explained to me that they engage in an integrated pest management program. And frankly that’s something I can get behind. They will spray their apples only when there is a pest problem that cannot be solved by other means. This practice is not what got apples listed as public enemy number one on the EWG’s Dirty Dozen.

No, what causes the heavy buildup of pesticides on apples is regular routine spraying of the trees, whether they need it or not. Amazingly, I was told by an employee at Bowman Orchards that this was their approach to pest management.

It’s an issue I care about, so when I go to orchards, I try to remember to ask.

Yes, one can buy organic apples from Honest Weight Co-op all year long. But those too come from far away, and they aren’t cheap. Plus as the months march on into winter and spring, what once was delightfully crisp in fall becomes soft and mealy.

In May, I don’t have a lot of love for apples. But pineapples I enjoy all year round. And even though this tropical fruit doesn’t subscribe to the local, seasonal, organic mantra that I regularly endorse, it is both delicious and clean.

You may have a different set of priorities that place an item’s carbon footprint above the pleasure it brings. But local isn’t always better. Organic isn’t always necessary. And if a product is hearty enough to survive an arduous trans-continental journey, the definition of seasonal can be malleable.

This isn’t to let you off the hook for eating better, cleaner, and more delicious foods. It’s just for you to know that even some of the most fastidious food lovers enjoy a certain amount of flexibility.

It’s a pretty good deal. Last week I met up again with chef Noah Sheetz of the Chefs Consortium, and he handed me another box of delicious treats. In that box were eggs from unusual birds, notably wild turkeys and pheasants. There were also smoked sausages from unusual animals, like pheasants and deer.

So naturally I put the pheasant sausage on a garlicky white bean puree and topped the whole thing with a fried pheasant egg. You can read all about it, and my new found love for these smaller eggs here. There are even pictures.

I feel great about this partnership and the work I do for All Over Albany (for which I actually do get paid). But there is something else on the horizon that makes me a little uneasy.

Recently I was approached about writing a sponsored post on the FLB. And I think I’m going to do it.

My first reaction when I got the email was one of revulsion. My opinion is not for sale. The whole thing seemed cheap and tawdry. But I’m also curious by nature, so I inquired a bit more about their proposal.

The agency is just looking for a story on food and drink that’s relevant to their client. Within that story, they need to have two specific links. And that apparently is it. For this modest task, I could walk away with some meaningful operating funds to do something fun with the blog. It could be targeted Facebook ads or some new FLB merchandise. It could fund a prize to give away or bankroll the bacon cook-off I want to organize at Rolf’s. The options are great and varied.

So here is how I’m going to make peace with it.

I’ve insisted that the post be labeled as sponsored content at the top and at the bottom. The post will run on Saturday, and be posted in the Sellout Saturday category. The opinions contained within are my own.

Let’s consider this an experiment.

My bet is that I can come out of this with my credibility intact. The way to do that is to make sure the sponsored content is clearly segregated, and that I’m honest and up front about everything. So here is your first early warning. It may not even happen. But just in case it does, I want you to know how it’s going to work.

In other news of trading my time and talent for food and fame, I have just officially been announced as one of the three judges for All Over Albany’s Burger Lab at Central Steak this Thursday. I will be joined at judges table by DerryX and Janie from the ASAP Daisies.

Tickets are already sold out. But I hope you were able to snag some before they got gobbled up. If you are there, please make sure to come over and say hi.

For those who are worried about the effects of this competition on my reduced cholesterol diet, fret no more. I’m almost done. In fact, I’ll have my blood drawn that morning, so as far as my doctor is concerned Thursday night is off the clock.

So is the Tour de Hard Ice Cream.

I’ll end up getting my numbers back by the time I return from a summer vacation to Northern California at the beginning of June. The timing of all this just worked out very well. Vacation is still a few weeks off, but I do plan to keep on posting while away. Just please be patient. With the time difference I suspect posts will be coming online later than usual.

Thank you all for your patience and your trust. I promise not to abuse it.

It’s not because I think they are the best of the supermarkets in the region. Right now they have a few good stores. I really like the one down in Slingerlands, and if the bagels from the Kosher Chopper out in Colonie went away, I would truly miss them.

However, the hard but obvious truth is that right now they are not the best supermarket in the region, regardless of what the Times Union Reader’s Choice Poll will say when it comes out in June. But there is no reason why they couldn’t be. I hope that in the face of tremendous competition our hometown market can rise up to the challenge and reinvent itself. But it will take a lot of work, focus and difficult decisions.

That said, I got a flyer in the mail recently that reflects their new deep savings. This is what was promised after rolling back their popular gas promotion (which I’ve only taken advantage of twice – I always found it too much of a hassle).

True to their word, the prices are low. Maybe a little too low.

There were four big coupons in the mailer: one for Snapple, one for their store brand of ice cream, one for grapes, and one for chicken. It was the chicken one that jumped out at me. Here’s how it reads:

Fresh Price Chopper Jumbo Chicken Leg Quarters
No water or salt added!
$.29 per pound with coupon and $15 purchase
Limit 1 package up to 7 lbs. please (through May 19).

To be fair, this week ShopRite is offering a similar discount, if not quite as deep. Their flyer tells of Tyson Chicken Leg Quarters on sale for $.38 per pound FINAL COST with Price Plus Card (through May 19).

But the point here isn’t the horse race between two markets on pricing for individual items. It’s the fact that anyone can sell chicken for such a paltry sum at all. And don’t think that Price Chopper is making it up on the boneless skinless breasts, because those are going for $1.99 per pound in the savings pack (until July 14).

Let’s stop and think about this for a minute. Twenty-nine cents a pound. Here’s what that buys.

- Eggs need to be fertilized, sorted and hatched.
- Chicks are sheltered, tended, and fed for weeks.
- Birds are slaughtered, processed* and inspected.
- Packages travel through the supply chain to the store.
- Trays of meat are put on the shelf and checked out by employees.
- Coupons are designed, printed and mailed

*Which requires no small amount of serious machinery and labor

All of this for $.29 a pound? I don’t think I could even get a Styrofoam tray for less than a dime. A large gumball will cost you a quarter. This is a pound or meat (and bone) from the tastiest part of the chicken. And I have no idea how far this poultry travels, but I do know that gas is around $4 a gallon, plus the truckers have to be paid for their time and labor too.

Even if you did all the processing yourself, had no transportation or marketing costs, and did not take into consider your own labor, this would be significantly less expensive than it would be to raise your own chickens. So how do they do it?

The same way they can make a pencil for a dime. Industrialization.

But this chicken is less expensive than sweet potatoes, onions, and pretty much any vegetable ever. Which is remarkable because root vegetables only need to be fed water and sunlight, and you know, don’t need to be slaughtered, plucked, eviscerated, cut, packaged, and shipped cold.

The problem is that when we industrialize animal husbandry. Even if you put aside the fact that sentient beings are subjected to inhumane conditions, one still needs to recognize the short cuts that are taken to get the birds to bulk up as quickly and as cheaply as possible. Then there is the human cost from the drive to reduce labor expenses, and environmental degradation that results from industrialized agriculture and bulk processing.

Sometimes it takes a coupon for really cheap chicken to be reminded of such things.

Now I’m not suggesting that Price Chopper try to be more like Whole Foods or Trader Joe’s. But I still think there is a way for our local supermarket chain to do right by the community, lower prices, and stay true to their core identity. I wish the idea were mine, but I cannot take credit for it.

This came from K W J Carney last night over Twitter:

Hey @PriceChopper, instead of mailing my whole neighborhood coupons for cheaper Diet Snapple, how about lowering the price of vegetables?

Yeah. What he said. Because this is the kind of thinking that can make a difference. This is how a grocery store can become more than just a broker of commodities. It’s hard to get good produce in upstate New York most of the year. But grocery stores are in a unique position to encourage better diets, get people cooking from scratch, and building stronger communities.

Cheaper dreck is not the answer. Bringing people the good stuff for less money, that’s golden.

But just last week, as I was begrudging the lack of fresh spring produce, I found something special at ShopRite: fava beans.

Fresh fava beans, still in their large soft pods look like string beans on steroids. Maybe they’ve been around every spring. Perhaps they are in Price Chopper and Hannaford, and I’ve just never seen them. But I was excited to get my hands on these. I’ve prepared fresh fava beans before, so I knew what I was up against, but I had plenty of time to kill.

This time, I thought I’d conduct a little experiment, and see just how much they shrunk in preparation.

So I started out with exactly one pound of fava bean pods. Since I don’t see these around a lot, I have no idea of $2.99 was a good price or a total rip-off. But it didn’t matter. I had a hunger for spring, and fresh favas say spring to me like nothing else.

The first step is sitting down and a table and removing the beans from the pods. And much like string beans, you snap an end, split the bean along a seam. Inside it looks like a jewelry box. It has a plush and soft interior that cushions any number of thick, large light-green beans.

These are the treasure you seek, and one pound yielded about 3.7 ounces.

There is only one problem. Those aren’t actually the beans. The beans are lurking inside those light green sheaths. And to get at them, you’ll have to blanch the beans in boiling water for a couple of minutes. Then comes the fun part: squeezing out the bean from its thick leathery skin.

I gently pinch a little hole in the membrane and squeeze the dark green bean within into a bowl. The trick is that the bean itself has two hemispheres. If you are too rough with it, the bean will split. And that’s fine. But whole beans are a better prize. It’s the difference between a nibble of chocolate and a mouthful of the stuff.

If you are careful, it can be slow going. And when I was done, I didn’t quite have two ounce of beans. To be fair, I did enjoy a couple as I was peeling them. But literally it was just one or two.

If you are curious, that scales up from $3 a pound to $24 a pound. More importantly, that means if you wanted to have a pound of prepared favas, you would need to start out with eight pounds of pods. I shudder to think how long that would take to prepare.

Which is just one reason why these beans are special.

I offered one nibble to Young Master Fussy and Little Miss Fussy, just in case they wanted to push their culinary boundaries. But when they declined, I let the matter rest, happy not to share my precious beans with undeserving children.

The beans were dressed simply in our best olive oil and a little kosher salt. And decadently we ate them on their own as an accompaniment to the last pouch of last year’s pesto. It was a feast of green. Something old, something new, something to slurp, and something to chew.

But the work involved with favas is just one of the reasons why they are such a joy to see on restaurant menus. Because then you can get that great earthy and green flavor from this springtime treat without having to put in any of the work. It’s like getting a shelled lobster or soft-serve ice cream.

Only about four more weeks until the CSA starts. And then I won’t be able to complain about missing the farmers markets. Then I’ll be able to complain about being completely overwhelmed with salad greens. But maybe we’ll have another flood or some hail that decimates the tender leafy greens. Man, I hate salad. Although maybe this year will be the year I turn it around. We’ll see.

Others stay put. Maybe they’ll travel for school or spend a year abroad, but they will eventually come back home to the city, town or hamlet where their family has lived for generations.

Albany seems to have a higher than average population of the latter. Mrs. Fussy and I firmly fall into the former. And as a direct result are nowhere near our respective mothers on this Mothers Day. I’m not even entirely sure where my mom is today. She may be in Florida, but perhaps she’s on a plane, or maybe she’s recently returned to Providence.

It’s difficult to keep track of other people’s schedules when I can barely keep up with my own. So in lieu of gifts or flowers, once again I’m dedicating today’s post to my mom.

There’s just one problem. Well, really there are two.

They are called 2010 and 2011. The 2011 one is especially hard to beat because it includes a photograph of the most beautiful poached egg ever. I don’t know why I didn’t write a Mothers Day post in 2009. But it’s challenging to keep coming up with material that ties in food to moms. So instead I’m going to do something else, and get very personal.

I promise tomorrow will get back to food. Besides, what I’m about to unfold should be interesting to those who read the FLB with some regularity, and I hope it might help others who may find themselves in a similar situation.

It’s amazing to me that in this day and age there is any stigma attached to psychotherapy.

When I was a teenager and my parents got divorced, my mom made sure that I saw a therapist regularly. His name was Dr. B and he kind of reminded me a lot of Alan Thicke. It was a tough time in my life, and it was tough for my parents and sister too. Tacking on the expense of these weekly visits was not insignificant.

But they totally changed my life.

Not only did they help me make sense of my changing relationship to my parents, they also helped me get through a pretty dark period in my life. But even more than that, this early experience in seeing a psychologist took the fear and anxiety about consulting a professional when suffering from emotional turmoil.

So when I was out in California and I hit a bump in the road, I was able to find a therapist out there to help me get through it. And when I was suffering from depression after moving to Albany, I found a doctor and talked it out.

My mom always described therapy as a luxury, and in many ways it is, even though it shouldn’t be. It’s really wonderful to have someone to unload all of your deep dark thoughts into.

In some ways, while sitting in the chair, it feels like you are paying someone to be a close friend. But no matter how close your best friend is, anyone you are not paying would eventually tire of hearing you selfishly drone on and on about your thoughts week after week. And a professional brings more to the table than just being a patient listener. They also occasionally ask good questions, which make you think, and delve deeper.

One such question I pondered while sitting in a session here in Albany was, “If you could do anything, what would you want to do?”

After thinking about it, the answer was to try and improve the food in Albany.

Yes, as odd as it may sound, the FUSSYlittleBLOG is a mental sanity project. And you know what? It worked. However, none of this would have happened had it not been for my mom and her strident support for mental health.

If you have migraines that won’t go away, you go see the doctor. If you have an ingrown toenail that is starting to look infected, you go see the doctor. If you are sad and can’t snap out of it, you go see the doctor.

There is no shame in it. It doesn’t make you crazy. It makes you human.

Hopefully you’ve got good insurance, because it can be expensive to pay out-of-pocket. And it can take a lot of time to get down to some of the root causes. But if you are committed to it and put in the effort with a talented professional, you can get better.

This knowledge is one of the most important gifts I received from my mom. And it has not only helped to shape me into who I am, but it also directly affects what I do on a daily basis.

So even though I have no idea where my mom is today, I’m keenly aware of her presence in my life every day. She’s taught me well, and I love her dearly. And I’m a better man because of it.

Happy mothers day Mom, I love you, and I’m feeling great.

Probably my favorite part of this conversation was Chef Tanner’s comment. One of the things he spelled out is the difference between stock and broth. Broth, he says, is made from meat, while stock is made from bones.

So what one buys at the grocery store, which is liquid and not gelatinous when cool, is technically broth and not stock. That fact actually makes the title of this post problematic. But I couldn’t resist the nod to Star Trek. Now what I need to tell you about is a little trick I picked up from Julia Child (if I recall correctly) about what to do should you find yourself in a cooking emergency surrounded by little more than store bought chicken broth.

Or should you be one of those people who really just doesn’t want to bother tending a pot of simmering liquid for three hours, but still wants to cook tasty food, I’ve got the solution.

Store-bought chicken broth can be improved dramatically with this simple notion: use it to make a secondary broth from fresh ingredients. Hopefully you have them laying around the house.

All you need is half of an onion, two cloves, one bay leaf, a carrot and a stalk of celery.

I’ve always used the cloves as tacks to fix the bay leaf onto the flat cut side of the peeled onion. The carrot gets peeled, and both it and the celery get cut into large chunks. Then you simmer for as long as you can, them with the store-bought broth, remove the vegetables, and use the doctored broth with confidence.

This is an effective way of taking the mass-produced taste out what is effectively an industrial product, and giving it the wholesome goodness of something made from scratch. No, it’s still not the same as the real thing. But it will do in a pinch.

Truth be told, I relied on this method for a long time.

Now that our family is in the habit of eating roast chicken on Friday nights, we produce a lot of carcasses. And since I started regularly making stock a few years ago, I’ve never been without at least some frozen cubes of the stuff in the freezer.

But that wasn’t always the case. Keeping yourself in homemade stock, even if it’s reduced and kept in the freezer, is a commitment of time and energy to the project. Not everyone is willing to put in the effort for tastier food, and not everyone has the kind of schedule that can accommodate a major cooking project every few weeks.

If that’s you, there’s the doctor.

And if you are missing an ingredient, do it anyway. If you only have five minutes before the broth is called into service, that’s five minutes it can improve from its shelf stable condition. Feel free to make substitutions. Add some more greenery like fresh parsley or dill. Anything to wake it up, and the broth will be seriously improved.

Okay. Now have a great weekend, and tell your mother you love her.

Turns out that on opening day, the Menands farmers market is more like a flea sale than anything else. It all worked out okay. Albany Jane, John, Little Miss Fussy and I went to Ted’s for fried oysters, but I never got my veggies.

So, where am I going with this?

Well, that means I’m still cooking with carrots, although I am still trying to make them spring-like. And that means carrot salad. I found this recipe for a zesty Moroccan take on this dish online. It’s delicious and easy to make (provided you have some kind of machine to grate the carrots). But more than anything else, I’d like to use this recipe as a launching point to discuss culinary creativity, and the importance of starting with a recipe.

Creativity is great. I encourage it. But I also think creativity can be the most productive in the home kitchen when it’s constrained. Sometimes your creative instincts can be inspired be a recipe. However,  it’s important to make the recipe as it was written, or at least have a solid understanding of what the recipe is before trying to make any significant modifications.

Let’s look at the components of this dish:

1 pound carrots
1/4 cup oil
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
2 cloves garlic
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
Pinch of salt
1/2 teaspoon harissa or cayenne

Now here is where one epicurious.com reader took this recipe, and it serves as a good example of creativity run amok. While it may seem hard to believe, what follows is an actual comment on the actual recipe:

I didn’t have harissa, so I minced a few chili peppers in abdobo sauce. I aslo added pineapple just because I had one. It added a refreshing sweetness to the spicy flavors…I decided to experiment and see if it would work as a carrot soup. WOW! It was amazing! I simmered the salad in about 1.5 cups beef broth and 1/2 cup coconut milk (I had some opened that I needed to use), then pureed the soup in the blender.

My instincts are a little bit different. The only modification I made to the original recipe was substituting dried parsley for the fresh. One can do this, the trick is just to use one third of the amount. So I went with a heaping tablespoon, and it was fine.

After making this recipe and loving it, I realized it could probably be a great framework for a master dish. I needed something to bring to a Cinco de Mayo party last weekend, and I thought that this could easily be adapted to include Mexican flavors.

Lemon gets switched out for lime.
Parsley gets swapped for a little less epazote.
Paprika becomes ancho chili powder.
Cinnamon is omitted in favor of more cumin & chili powder.

That’s it. Now it’s a Mexican-inspired carrot salad with chili and lime.

You see how that works? It’s something tart (citrus or vinegar), something green (dried or fresh herbs), and some complementary spice blend. In theory you could also swap out the carrots for another crisp and crunchy vegetable, like jicama. Then all that you need is a broad understanding of classic flavor combinations.

Make it French with lemon, tarragon and green peppercorns.
Make it Jamaican with lime, thyme and allspice.
Make it Japanese with rice vinegar, shiso and ginger.

I have yet to make these other variants of the dish, but they are as limitless as your imagination/accessibility to ingredients. As it turns out Mrs. Fussy preferred the Mexican-inspired version to the original Moroccan.

Eventually, when you have cooked enough, it’s possible to develop an intuitive sense of proportions. You should also get into the practice of tasting as you go, and become more skilled at identifying what needs to be changed to ultimately make the dish successful. But these skills take time to hone.

This is why recipes help. You don’t always have to fastidiously hold to them and precisely measure ingredients (unless you are baking). But they give you a framework, and a starting place. Once you have a better grasp of the recipe, it’s easy to use it as a launch pad for your culinary flights of fancy.

Just remember, keep it simple. Good food need not be complicated. Find a few great ingredients, put them together, add salt & fat, and try not to mess it up.

If you need help, or a little hand holding, let me know. We’ll get you cooking.

The instrument was fine.

Anyway, I’m fresh off a great meeting with Chef Noah from The Chefs Consortium, and I’m really inspired by some of the local foods he’s handed over for me to write up in the coming weeks. Plus I’ve made a new friend who has backyard chickens, and enjoyed an amazing poached egg, which always brings me unimaginable joy.

But today isn’t about me. It’s about you, or rather, your questions. Because I’m committed to answering all of them provided they contain a question mark. I may even answer questions that weren’t directed at me. Occasionally I’ll tackle a rhetorical question too. Today, I’ve also chosen to address something that was never a question at all.

Ready? Let’s begin.

christine almost lost her bowel function because of price inflation:
I actually spent $11.75 for a “cheeseburger platter” at a local diner (platter… came with lettuce, tomato, onion and a small cup of cole slaw) and nearly crapped my pants at the price! I didn’t even look at the price when ordering the meal and only discovered it when the bill came. After all, how much can a simple burger at a diner cost?

I’m guessing $11.75 and that’s criminal, especially for conventional beef. If you didn’t read my recent post about mad cow disease, perhaps you should as a reminder for why conventional beef is so inexpensive. There are places all around the country where you can get a fast-food style grass-fed burger for well under $10. This is the burger I seek, and I fully expect to make it up to the Capital Region by 2020.

Tonia was skeptical on my thoughts about downtown Albany’s restaurant week:
As for V&R, was not impressed when I went there… uninspired is a nice way to put it. But, that was a while ago, maybe I should re-visit?

Or maybe not. V&R isn’t the kind of place that I imagine changes. One should recall that the strange land out west from whence I came is largely devoid of these uninspired red-sauce classic Italian-American eateries. This gives me a different appreciation for the form. It’s not worn and old, but rather anachronistic and classic (in its way). While I wouldn’t want to pay a lot of money for this food, the restaurant week prices seem totally fair.

Cher presumably has never stepped foot in a McDonalds or Dairy Queen:
I have also noted the lack of soft serve ice cream places in other parts of the country. Is this a Northeast thing?

Indeed, there is soft serve everywhere. But our regional soft serve stands are special.

Todd wants to get philosophical, and I’m perfectly happy to challenge great thinkers:
Emerson once said “”Unless you try to do something beyond what you have already mastered, you will never grow.” Perhaps this can be taken into account in this discussion?

Growth is overrated. I love this idea of mastery though. And I think those who are truly committed to the mastery of a craft are never fully satisfied with what they have achieved. There is always a way to do it better. There are always questions to ask, problems to solve, and mysteries to ponder. This is the path to perfection, which is ultimately unattainable.

PensiveEngineer still thinks Ben & Jerry’s is just as local as Stewart’s:
I wouldn’t compare B&J to Budweiser. Something more along the lines of Sam Adams or Saranac. Stewarts would be something like Genny Cream Ale, smaller and just worse. That said, there isn’t much difference between Stewarts and B&J corporatewise. Can you tell I don’t care for Stewart’s ice cream?

Except The Boston Beer Company isn’t owned by some global conglomerate and Ben & Jerry’s is. I know you don’t think it makes a difference, but it does. And I’m not trying to defend Stewart’s, I don’t care for it much either. However, it’s the ice cream of upstate New York and Ben & Jerry’s is the ice cream of Vermont (but really the nation).

Dave is understandably upset about my position on Garden Bistro 24’s burger:
To do ANYTHING but applaud GB 24 for making a commitment to this quality level is utterly petty. Could he have gotten meat for less, even grass fed? Probably. But I suspect he went with Herondale because it was the best he tried, and THAT is what he based his decision on. That is what a cook is supposed to do, ideally.

First, unless you asked the chef any speculation as to his motives are just that. But you raise the better question of, “What, ideally, is a cook supposed to do when creating a menu item?” First and foremost I would argue to put out something that works with the rest of the menu. Clearly it would be ridiculous for the chef to fly in bluefin tuna from Tokyo and serve slices of this delicacy that cost as much as $75 per ounce wholesale (just because it was “the best he tried”).

I am indeed glad that GB24 is putting grassfed beef on the menu. But I still think there was a way for the chef to bring the food cost down and bring it more in line with their menu. Simplifying the burger’s toppings and bun would help. Cutting it down by an ounce is a possibility too. But the pricing decision of this menu item is indeed consistent with the other changes at the restaurant. It’s just sad to see a beloved place turn away from those things that made it special.

I think Mr Sunshine was being sarcastic when he asked the following:
Burgers without pink slime lack that lovely tooth and mouth feel I’ve come to know and love. Pink slime restores umami to the burger, don’t you agree?

Personally, I prefer to call it LFTB, which is short for lean finely-textured beef. Yes, I’ve used “pink slime” in the past, and will continue to use it in the future, but it is inflammatory. Much like the word fracking sounds a lot worse than hydraulic fracturing. Actually fracturing sounds bad too, because it involves breaking things. And if you break it, you buy it. But back to the question, there will be some people who prefer the texture of LFTB, and will miss it when its gone. But I disagree on the subject of umami.

PensiveEngineer wants to know more about fish:
Do you have post on your favorite seafood? I would love to get your thoughts on seafood in the Albany area ( what little there is) and where you escape to to get fish right off the boat.

The closest thing I have is a post on sustainable and clean fish. But really I do not cook or eat as much of it as I should. There are people who like Fin the fishmonger, and others who swear by Pura Vida. Local Ocean seems to be a sustainably focused fish farm in the region too. But if you are in the Capital Region and you want fish, you should be going out for fish fry.

Jon in Albany didn’t have a question, but I wanted to address this comment:
As long as we’re picking fights-I bought a bag of those Buffalo wing flavored pretzel bites you talked about…you owe me 3 bucks.

You know, it is possible that what I found so delightful about these treats was their surprise. Someone handed me the bag, and said I should try one. I looked at it with disbelief and maybe more than a fair bit of scorn before putting one in my mouth. And then, shazam. Now I love them. Perhaps my adoration for these freakishly juicy pretzels set the bar impossibly high.

mr. dave cryptically asked:
Mr. who?

Perhaps Mr. Dave forgets himself. I don’t know. What I do know is that we haven’t forgotten him. How can we? We’re still pissed that he’s taken down his blog. Maybe you noticed how many times we will cross a river on the Tour de Hard Ice Cream. I did this just to spite him. So there.

Missprivate wants to argue the importance of semantics:
Sorry prof, I can’t side with you on this one. What’s that about mountains and molehills?
If she were marketing this product, then yes, sure, it’s false advertising. But seriously, give the food allergy mom a break. Okay, so it’s not ice cream in the purest definition, but isn’t that the way much of parenting works? The tooth fairy, for instance?
I just don’t understand the point of getting so caught up in semantics here.

You are not alone in this opinion. Words matter to me. And for me it’s not about parenting, it’s about food. It is based on a belief that those who take on the task of writing about food should provide good and accurate information to their readers. Thus my concern with The Gazette’s chicken stock story where they advise readers to salt their stock. For what it’s worth, I  completely agree that my inability to let stuff like this go is a problem. But I just can’t do it.

Kerosena states the obvious:
So you’re a nudje. This is news all of a sudden?

I KNOW! Personally, I don’t get it either. Between you and me, I think there is a much larger issue at play that involves not being able to differentiate criticism of a person’s ideas from personal attacks. Bully is a powerful, weighted word and it should not be used lightly.

corrinadarling is serious, which I find strange:
Also, I don’t get why I can’t call milk made from soy “milk”? Why do I need to add a qualifier if people drinking animal milks don’t? Milk can come from cows, goats, cats. Unless I am explaining options to people who may have a preference or allergy I don’t really see why the qualifier is any more necessary for plant milks than animal milks.

For better or for worse, in this country milk is synonymous with cows milk . So you do indeed need a qualifier for any animal milks that aren’t bovine, just like you need one for your plant milks. Don’t blame me. Blame 100+ years of societal norms.

I’m not entirely clear on where Shawn’s question is coming from, but the answer is easy:
Do you think it is reasonable to serve someone a glass of soy milk when they request milk?

No.

The same goes for Fred’s querry:
You really strive to be a pretentious prick don’t you?

No, I don’t. If there are specific statements that you have an issue with, let’s discuss them.

Burnt My Fingers would like to try and defend stock made from scraps:
Remember Julia Child’s friend Jacques Pepin, who had his own cooking show for many years? He would just toss vegetable scraps into a baggie and put it in the freezer, then pull it out when the time came to make a stock. Nothing scientific or fussy about that and the stocks enhanced the foods he was making them for. And he would taste and correct as needed.

Remember? Heck, the first cookbook I ever bought was from one of Jacques Pepin’s PBS specials. The thing is that he is one of the best chefs in the world. I’m sure he could make scraps of anything taste delicious in a variety of preparations. You are not Jacques Pepin, nor am I, nor is anyone else. I say teach beginning cooks how to do it right, so they can be consistent and stack the deck in their favor for making delicious dishes. Then after they apprentice in Michelin-starred French restaurants for years, cook for the President of France, and get their own TV show, they can start making delicious stock from kitchen scraps.

KB @ Home-Baked Happiness rightfully sides with Mrs. Fussy:
If I was Mrs. Fussy, I’d be ready to smack you, ’cause from her point of view, why did you ask what she wanted if you weren’t going to use any of her ideas, and why does she not get to order what she wants, too?

First, there is no hitting in the Fussy household. Second, I asked because I wanted to take her ideas into consideration, and didn’t know at the time that I would ultimately reject them. Third, she could have ordered the fish stew, I just told her I would probably not eat any of it. Upon consideration of having to tackle the leftovers by herself, she recanted. And let me remind you, the pernil which was ordered as a result of these negotiations turned out to be Mrs. Fussy’s favorite dish of the night.

ginamodschooler seems to be one of the only people who cared about the mad cow story:
Isn’t is sad that we need someone to make poultry waste in cattle feed illegal?

Whoa. Slow down there. Nobody is talking about making bird shit and feathers illegal to feed to cows. We just need to find a way that the ground up cows which we feed to chickens don’t end up being fed back to cows. That’s the “illegal” part. Chicken shit is fine to feed the ruminants that produce the milk and meat served in restaurants. But feeding ground up cows to cows, well that’s where we draw the line.

It’s almost enough to make me a restaurant vegetarian/vegan again. That is, unless I can be sure of the provenance of the establishment’s meat and dairy. Not out of concerns for my safety or the animals’ well-being. But simply because it’s so unappetizing.

Like the Tour de Cider Donut, this might actually need to be split up over multiple rounds. But I’ve finally wrapped my head around all your nominations and have done a little bit of soul searching, and I’m proud to announce the itinerary for the Tour de Hard Ice Cream.

The soul searching involved Stewart’s. For those who live outside of the area, this is our locally based chain of convenience stores. We don’t have 7-11 out here or the Circle-K. We have Stewart’s. And they are known for a small handful of good products at a fair price, one of which is their ice cream. Some will claim they have “The World’s Best Vanilla.” But they don’t, though.

Theirs is an industrial produced product made in mega-batches and distributed through the region. It’s not going to be as good as some of the other smaller ice cream stands that make their own product by hand. But Stewart’s is also a regional benchmark. Much like how I fully expected Kurver Kreme to flame out in the Tour de Soft Serve, they had to be included, because a Tour without Kurver was no tour at all.

But ultimately this is not about hard ice cream as a commodity. It’s about the individuality expressed at each of the ice cream stands on the tour; and this can be tasted in the hard ice cream they make by themselves.

Now let me tell you what I’ve got planned.

Before you say, “Holy shit, that’s a lot of driving,” allow me to provide a bit of context from previous tours.

Making five stops over the course of a day to eat even what seems like a modest treat, can be quite a physical challenge. Two mini hot-dogs seem inconsequential. Ten mini hot-dogs almost killed me. The same holds true with cider donuts. And I don’t even want to think about the cupcakes.

Having some time to drive between destinations is a blessing. It’s a forced break that allows your body to do the hard work of preventing you from slipping into a sugar coma. Tours with a tighter geographical footprint are brutal, because the breaks between eating occasions is significantly shorter.

This tour will also be a good warm up for fall when we head back to Saratoga County for our third round of cider donuts.

At 11:00 a.m. sharp on Saturday, May 19 May 26, the Tour de Hard Ice Cream will commence at The Farmer’s Daughters’ Drive In.  Even though this place wasn’t on my radar, it had some vocal proponents, and just happens to be very close to the spot that drew us up north in the first place, The Ice Cream Man. As people gather, I’ll hand out score sheets for those who want to be counted in the final tally of the day. That’s right, you can come and just hang out and eat some ice cream. But if you want to judge, you’ll have to follow a pretty strict set of rules. More on those in a bit.

After The Farmer’s Daughters’ Drive In, we’ll all take off for The Ice Cream Man. These first two stops really make up the lunch portion of the tour.

Google says it’s a 34-minute drive down Route 40 from The Ice Cream Man to The Snowman in Lansingburgh. We’ll see about that. But coming out of nominations, The Snowman seems to be the favorite going in.

What was surprising was to see all the support for Mac’s Drive In, as this place was completely off my radar. So after The Snowman, we’re crossing the river and heading to Watervliet. I’m quite excited.

From there we conclude the tour at Moxie’s. After finishing your fifth ice cream of the day, you can then collapse in a swing or take a nap on the grass. Those intrepid souls who have an ice cream capacity greater than my own can take on Moxie’s world tour of vanilla ice cream. But I’m going to pass.

Albany, Schenectady and Glenmont all get jilted this time despite the significant support for Scoups, Twist, and Curry Freeze. And as you’ve noticed, there is no stop at Stewart’s.

The map of the day can be found here.

The tour is open to everyone and anyone. All you need is your appetite and transportation. All I’ll be providing is the map above, score sheets, and some color commentary. So I guess that means you also need money for ice cream and a pen.

Please, please let me know if you are coming so I can make sure to have enough score sheets for everyone, and try to make sure we don’t leave anyone behind.

I’m going to call ahead the day before to try and get flavor lists from the shops on the tour. That way when we meet at 11 a.m. on Saturday, May 19 May 26 we should have a good sense of the common denominators. Likely they will be simple flavors like strawberry, vanilla, chocolate and coffee. But all of these are important.

For your score sheet to count in the final evaluation, you must taste and completely score all five locations. You must also in good faith try to keep your order consistent at each establishment. If you take a topping, you’ll need to take that same topping everywhere. So choose wisely.

This is a kid friendly tour. So if you’ve got ‘em, and you want to bring ‘em, go for it. Let me know if they want their very own scoresheet, and I’ll bring one for them too. Please be advised, scoring by minors is for entertainment purposes only. The final tally will include only those scoresheets completed by adults.

I hope you can make it. The above may make it sound a bit intense, but these have been a lot of fun. It is why I continue to do them, and presumably why they have continued to grow. Some future tours may need to have restricted attendance, but these ice cream shops are more than equipped to handle our volume.

Saturday, May 19 May 26 we eat ice cream. Lots and lots of ice cream. And we will try to settle the question of who makes the best hard ice cream north of Albany. I look forward to seeing you there. Again, just let me know if you are coming.